


Thursdays

by Sebastian_txt



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, SteveTony, Stony - Freeform, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, stony fluff, they in love bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12515620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebastian_txt/pseuds/Sebastian_txt
Summary: pure, self indulgent, fluff.





	Thursdays

Steven Grant Rogers was not one to back down from a challenge of any sort. Even if he knew he would lose miserably. 

He clenches his fists slightly as Tony speaks, “All or nothing, Rogers,” The smirk on his face is absolutely infuriating as he throws out a final piece of pop culture trivia that Steve clearly didn’t know. 

“I have no idea, of course I have no idea, I was frozen,” Tony just chuckles at Steve’s frustration. 

“Half the fun is seeing you get all worked up, sweetheart,” 

“Alright,” Steve mutters, trying to think of something Stark would never know, except, knowing Stark, he’d have learnt it just to show up Steve. “Who won the 1941 world series?”

“Come on, I hardly know who won this year,” Tony says, uncharacteristically still in a good mood, despite a clear loss. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe he was just happy to be on good terms with Steve again, but he hardly cared about winning. Most likely, and somewhat truthfully, he kept a level head out of pure spite as he had only just made fun of Steve for his similar frustration.

There’s a moment of silence before Steve says, “If i’m honest, I don’t really remember,”, except that he did, of course, he had gone to at least one game played in it, “want to watch a movie? You can pick,” He smiles, standing up from the table and clearing the bottles. 

“Hey,” Steve turns to the slightly fumbling voice, “get me a drink while you're up,” Steve rolls his vivacious blue eyes but grabs a glass and fills it with the golden brown liquid for Tony. 

They move to Tony's spacious living room, sitting on opposite ends of a shockingly uncomfortable couch as Tony contemplates the possible films as if he were choosing a career path, not a form of entertainment. 

Steve looks at him, almost intently as he finally narrows it down to two. Tony considers turning to Steve and giving him the option, but he knows the blond probably doesn’t know about either. Yet, he can feel Steve’s impatience growing and he purposefully tantalises him a while longer. 

Finally, after what seems like years, he puts the disk in and sits back down a foot and half away from Steve. 

If he’s honest, Steve is a bit bored with the movie. The vast majority of the film is walking and strategizing. He’s sure that it’s a classic in some way, so he refuses to speak up about the vivid dullness on screen. 

At long last, after an uneventful movie from all perspectives, the song at the end credits begins to play. Tony gets up, stretching as he slowly, and pointlessly, sways with the soft music. It’s late, nearly two in the morning, but for once, Steve doesn’t feel like going to bed. He stands, swaying slightly as the song changes for the second part of the credits. 

This song is a catchy, upbeat rhythm and they both surprise themselves by dancing. Steve never really does, Tony just avoids the act in front of people. 

As a result of their tenseness, the others had decided they were to spend every thursday evenings after dinner together. As a shock to everyone involved, it was working. The song ends and the screen goes black, both men suddenly blushing at their closeness and slightly tipsy, extremely tired dancing. 

Tony puts the DVD away and they both retreat to their respective apartments. 

The next thursday evening, they go to a diner a few blocks off, each covered in about a milion layers of clothes as to set off a sense of covertness. 

As per usual, their evening starts out choppy and awkward, but by the time Tony leaves an extraordinarily large tip, they’re laughing and talking. They make up games on the way back, trying to come up with ways to spend the evening. 

Unintentionally, Tony latches himself to Steve’s arm as they cross a busy street and he is knocked about a bit. The taller man hardly acknowledges it, only leaning down slightly as to make himself more accessible, as if this were a completely normal thing that they did. 

Neither men break the hold, or talk, until they run into Clint in the elevator. He raises his eyebrows, glances at their interlocked arms, and then back up to them. Tony processes everything quicker than Steve, unlacing his arm and putting his semi sweaty hands in his pockets. 

He nods at Clint, “Hey, Barton,” he doesn’t respond, just smirks, shakes his head, and gets off the elevator. 

“Well he is certainly a strange man, acts like he hasn’t ever,” Tony babbles on in mock disapproval all the way back to his living room, where they plan to spend the remainder of the evening. Steve truly doesn’t hear a single word Tony gurgles out as he pushes back a bubbling in his stomach and fights the slight smile aching to form on his lips. He hardly understands why he would be feeling this, but he recognises the dreadful emotion almost immediately. He has a slight crush on one Anthony Edward Stark. 

Both, though they pretend to not care, are upset by having to miss their thursday evening together the next week. They meet up earlier than usual the following thursday to make up for the tragically lost time. 

They play a board game, trivia, as usual. Usually Tony is the sorest loser you have ever seen, and yet he smiles and laughs even after he has lost horribly at his own pick of game that, if Steve is impartial, Tony really should have won. It was luck and luck alone that allowed Steve to win by the mere two points he did. 

Tony shoots him an odd look as he sees Steve’s furrowed brow, “What?”

“You aren’t calling bullshit,” Steve tries to hold back a chuckle as Tony rolls his eyes dramatically and leans back on his elbows. 

“So if I’m a dick, you’re on my ass, if i’m nice, you’re on my ass, i can’t win this,” Tony throws his arms up and falls back, momentarily. Steve lets himself laugh a bit before responding. 

“I’m just worried, Stark. It isn’t like you to be decent,” Tony sits up at this, putting his hand against his heart as if he is truly appalled, his nail clicking slightly against the arc reactor during the action. Steve apologises, he knows Tony is being dramatic, but he wants to convey that he thinks he’s much more than decent. He doesn’t ever want to upset him, not even as a joke. 

What neither of them can see, is the other fighting, hard against the urge to reach out and hold or kiss their friend in the dim light of the late hour. 

Next thursday, Steve gets it in his head that he may just do something about these feelings he had given up ignoring. 

Tony, however, had got the idea that he would take the secret to his ever nearing grave. 

The first bit goes as normal, they have cut out the awkward part and go straight to happily chatting and planning. When they walk, Tony latches his hands around Steve’s arm, a tradition both of them seem to love. 

Tony takes tonight to teach Steve about the wonders of game shows, switching to ‘Family Feud’. 

By midway through the episode, Steve is more confused about the concept than before and Tony is absolutely hysterical. 

“Why the hell would someone answer ‘spoon’?” Steve keeps making similar remarks whenever someone states an absurd answer, whether it’s on the board or not. 

“Just go with it, Stevie,” In the course of just a few weeks, Tony’s way of addressing the blue eyed man had changed from ‘Rogers’ to ‘Steve’ to a sentimental ‘Stevie’. It was foreign from Tony's lips, sounding odd as the compassionate nickname rolled off his tongue. Neither of them notice the time passing as they enter the danger zone, late night ‘Family Feud’, where nearly every answer is a variation of ‘dick’ and Steve Harvey looks more exhausted than the vast majority of the world will ever be able to imagine feeling.

At four in the morning, with Tony curled up under his arm, Steve switches off the TV, not even sad that he missed his goal. 

They stop only seeing each other on thursdays and start spending the bulk of their free time together. 

It’s a wednesday night as they’re sat on Tony’s kitchen floor, just chatting, drinking, and bonding in the early evening when Steve begins to build up his courage. 

“Stark,” He says, his voice nervous as it grabs the other man's attention, they each sit a little straighter, “I need to tell you something,” both of them are jittery as they look across at each other. Tony nods, so steve continues. “For, well a while, I kind of, well really, I have, I mean, Tony I-” and then Tony moved closer, slowly, he ran his calloused hand along Steve’s jaw. Steve breathes softly, eyes twinkling as they look at Tony kneeling in front of him. 

Steve leans forward, brushing his lips against Tony’s and smiling softly against them. Neither move more than a few inches apart for the better half of an hour, kissing slowly and tentatively, both their breaths flavored by alcohol and chocolate. Steve stretches his legs out and Tony sits between them, leaning his head back on Steve’s chest as he wraps his hands around Stark’s small frame. 

“You’re really pretty,” Steve says, out of nowhere, his breath hitting Tony’s ear and the side of his face. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Tony smirks, trying to sound himself but he sighs slightly, letting his head fall at the crook before Steve’s neck. The sarcastic term of endearment comes out rather lovingly. 

The next thing he knows, Steve has tucked him into his bed and kisses his temple lightly. 

“Good night, Stark,” Steve says as he reaches the door and switches the light off, turning his back to look at him. Tony looks at his sturdy silhouette against the bright light streaming in behind him, smiling to himself.

“Good night, you tall asshole,” Steve chuckles, shaking his head as he shuts the door and returns to his own empty mattress.

Five years later, on a sunny thursday in march, they gather in a garden upstate to be, symbolically, married.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sure they're out of character but fuck it, probably less so than in some movies, anyway. I might make a version with the smutty ending but i dunno because i don't really like doing that but I am a view slut (who gets no views).


End file.
